Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Under Parphia’s spell, you’re a human,” Firo corrects me. “When the spell is lifted, you’ll be a faery.”
“Then lift the spell,” I say without hesitation. I’ve spent my entire life not knowing quite what I am. Born of a wish, a human with a faery mother, there was never anyone like me. Now that I know what I am, I want to fully embody my faeness.
Firo shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. I can’t break another faery’s spell.”
“Parphia is dead,” I protest. “Surely, there’s some loophole—”
“You would need to speak to someone who knew the spell that was used. Unfortunately, Parphia cannot be questioned. Your mother might have known. The only other involved was—”
“Luthian.” He doesn’t want to speak to me again. Now, he doesn’t have that choice. He put a similar spell on Brujon once. He knows how they work.
“Cassan might be moved to help you,” Firo says. “He’s quite besotted with you.”
“He’s besotted with human pussy,” I snap, then offer Firo an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry. I’m tired.”
“You’re not in a position that I envy. But the power that you gain from this revelation…” He’s studying the clock face. “I can’t tell you what you will do next. But I can tell you that you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, and stronger. You braved all of Luthian’s games. You survived Arcus’s torments. You can handle whatever comes next.”
I don’t feel smart, or brave, or strong. I’m confused, frightened, and angry.
“Why did Luthian bring me here?” I ask, for I know now that Firo has more knowledge of the plot than I ever had. “For revenge against Arcus, or to win the kingdom for Parphia by installing me on the throne?”
“Both,” Firo says. “But I don’t think he intended to fall in love with you along the way.”
A tearful laugh catches in my throat. “Would that he hadn’t. Would that I hadn’t.”
“You could wish for it,” Firo suggests.
I have no wishes left. Luthian tricked me into giving the first away. I used the second to free Kathras.
But perhaps there is hope. Perhaps I could get another wish, somehow. “Do you think that if I wish for Parphia’s enchantment to be broken, I could be restored? I could be a faery, as I was born to be?”
“Wishes are the strongest magic there is,” Firo says. “I doubt even Parphia could have created a spell strong enough to withstand it.”
A wish is an important thing. They don’t come along every day.
One must be careful what they wish for.
One must be mindful of the consequences.
“What I truly wish for,” I begin, knowing that my wish is not guaranteed, “is to see Luthian again.”
And then he is there, standing before me.
Chapter Forty-Two
The Luthian who appears before me is not the faery I met in the graveyard, and he is a shadow of the faery who left me here at court. He’s always been blue-gray, but now he is paler, like the snowy side of an ash. His dressing gown is askew, his expression tired, and I know that isn’t because I’ve woken him. He has the look of someone who lost a fight with wakefulness days ago.
He blinks at me, and at Firo. “What’s happened?”
“Cenere used one of her wishes to bring you back,” Firo says calmly.
“I-I had no wishes left,” I whisper to myself.
They don’t seem to hear me.
Firo tells him, “She knows everything.”
Luthian’s eyes widen.
“Everything,” I repeat. “I know the truth behind every one of your lies. I know about Parphia’s child, and that I am that child.”
“Then you have all the answers, and my presence isn’t necessary.” He tilts his head, daring me to go further.
I will not be cowed by him any longer. “The favor you have done for me is finished. Our agreement was voided, remember? Because I wished it? In a few hours, I will be queen of this court. I owe you nothing.”
“Did you prepare that speech before you summoned me?” Luthian laughs, but I see through it. He is frightened of me, now that I know the truth.
“No. I wished for your presence because there is still something I do not understand.” I turn to Firo. “Thank you for your counsel. I will see you at the coronation.”
“You will?” Firo’s eyes dart to the clock table in surprise.
He may not be able to tell me the future, but he’s horrible at hiding it.
“Luthian of Mithrax,” I say, walking toward the door without sparing him another glance. “If you try to leave court, I will have you hunted for sport. Follow me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he says, and my heart thrills at his forced obedience.
It thrills just to see him. I don’t know how I stopped myself from lunging at him, throwing my arms around his neck, begging him to forgive me and to stay with me, but I’m proud of my restraint. I want to tell him that I’ve missed him, that I can’t stand the thought of a life behind these palace walls without him. But above all of that is a profound anger, a fury I have every right to express.